Page 73 of The Wallflower Ruse

With difficulty, she restrained her fury at this absurdity. “Don’t try to convince me that from accusing me of trying to compromise you and as good as expelling me from your house, you have, in a mere four, or is it five days, fallen madly in love with me, because I don’t believe it, and nor will anyone else.”

“I don’t care if no one else believes it, as long as you do.” He paused. “I rather thought you liked it when I kissed you.”

“Yes.” Pause. “I did.” Pause. “But so what? You’re an experienced kisser. You probably even kiss women’s feet.”

“Actually, no, not so far, but if that’s what excites you, I’d be happy to oblige.”

She flapped an irritated hand. “That was Alfreda’s silly imagining, not that I’m entirely averse to the notion—” Dear heaven, what was wrong with her? She mustn’t allow herself to think of any kind of kissing in relation to Restive.

“I’ll kiss you anywhere you like, as often as you want,” he said softly, his breath warm on her ear.

She shivered. “Stop trying to seduce me! It won’t work, and if it did, it would end in disaster.”

“I’m not that much of a fumbler,” he began indignantly, then said, “although I’m quite sure experience is irrelevant where love is concerned. I love you, Lucy. Always have, as a matter of fact, although I didn’t realize it until a few days ago. You can’t imagine what a relief it is to no longer live in fear of accidentally ruining some foolish chit.”

He loves me?

“Far from seeking to seduce you, I refuse to take your supposed virginity until after we’re wed.”

“Supposed? I am a virgin.” He loves me?

Would he say that if he didn’t mean it? She didn’t think so. He was known for never saying anything to make a lady expect a proposal of marriage. However, the timing of this declaration was so clearly tied to last night’s half-naked kiss that she couldn’t allow herself to succumb.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You seem to know quite a lot that a virgin isn’t supposed to know.”

“Because I can read,” she retorted, and then realized what she’d said. He thought she meant that vulgar letter in code!

“Can it be that I have actually made you blush?” Restive grinned.

“If I am blushing, your French contact gets the credit,” she said firmly, but she couldn’t help the tendency of her mouth to smile. It was all she could do not to giggle.

“I shall do everything he described, if you wish me to,” he said. “But you’ll have to marry me first.”

If only she could...but... She folded her arms as if it would shield her from temptation. “I’m sorry to cause you pain, but I don’t think I should marry you.” She risked a glance at him, and her heart squeezed at the sadness on his face.

“Am I really so unlikeable, love?” he asked. “So unforgiveable? Because if revenge is what you want, you’ve succeeded, believe me.”

Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that.”

He put an arm around her. “There, there. Don’t cry, sweetheart.” With a flourish, he handed her a huge handkerchief. It reminded her of a day long, long ago when she’d fallen and scraped her knee. Restive had dried her tears with his handkerchief, while her unsympathetic brother scoffed.

She wiped her eyes. “Revenge is for fools. I was angry and lashed out, that’s all. There is nothing to forgive, and I do like you, despite your best efforts to be horrid.”

“There is indeed something to forgive.” He squeezed her against him. “I apologize for my thoughtless and inconsiderate behavior in sending you back to your mother. I’m sure that, between us, we could have found a better option—but I was suitably punished when that fool abducted you. I was terrified for you, whilst I suppose you were calm and brave.”

“More than anything, I was infuriated,” she admitted.

“Of course you were,” Restive said, a smile in his words. “I do love you, Lucy.”

She was so very tempted to give in, to lean into him, to let herself love him with all her heart.

But she had to be fair to him, to protect him from his own astonishing sense of honor. “The thing is, Algy, you don’t want to marry—in fact, I’d have said you were afraid to marry, which may sound absurd, except that I felt much the same about being tied to the wrong man, so it made sense to me.”

“Afraid is a good word for it. At first, I did my best not to believe I wanted to marry you—but I didn’t know what it really meant to be afraid until I thought you had drowned.”

She couldn’t argue with that, and yet...

“I never said I didn’t want to marry. I was waiting for the right woman, that’s all, and here you are, as perfect as perfect can be for me.”